


Lights Out

by scotchywrites



Series: A Hundred Red Roses [2]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, F/M, Late Night Conversations, Long-Distance Relationship, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Simultaneous Orgasm, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25228240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scotchywrites/pseuds/scotchywrites
Summary: "I think of your hair." Ben tried. Beverly kept silent. She would wait for him. She would give him all the time he needs, and she would glady try and help him through this if he wanted it. "And your eyes, green like forests. Your red lips, how tender you taste against my own," Ben hesitantly went on. "The constellation in your freckles."Beverly closed her eyes and listened to Ben's voice on the phone. Even altered through the device, he still had the power to have her feeling some kind of way about the way he puts his thoughts into words. Ben Hanscom has a voice made of honey."I think about your voice, and your small and delicate hands. I wonder, what they feel like, skin against skin." He's been through this before, about a dozen times before at least. But never before had he given into it. He has always ignored it, discarded it, or punished himself with an ice cold shower. But now, she made him feel like he was rewarding himself.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom & Beverly Marsh, Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh
Series: A Hundred Red Roses [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1822030
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	Lights Out

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have proofreaders, so beware, there might be some typos.

The sun had set shortly before the clock was about to strike ten o'clock in the evening. Benjamin Hanscom had gone to bed around the same time. He had been reading and responding to e-mails for nearly two hours before he'd decided it has been enough for the day. Opposite his large, empty bed, there was a flatscreen TV on the wall. He has long lost the count how many times he has fallen asleep while watching TV in bed. It doesn't really matter. He's alone, and he doesn't need to worry about moving to the wrong side of the bed either. Ben Hanscom owns a king-size nest, and has no one to share it with. He flicks on the television, and selects the Netflix menu. He filters through the recommended items, and mindlessly chooses one if only to break the silence inside his bedroom.

A few states further away, Beverly Marsh put down her sketchbooks around eight o'clock in the evening and has since then, been watching the petite flatscreen TV in the hotel room which has begun to feel more and more like her new home. She had not yet found it in her, to search for a proper home to stay and live ever since she had said good bye for good to Tom Rogan. Claiming her freedom, she has been thinking of travelling a little bit before settling down. But eventually, she has been staying at the same hotel for nearly two months now. Phoenix, Arizona, maybe wasn't all that bad.

Manhattan was big and crowded and always alive, and yet, Ben had no intention of following any of the story playing out on the TV in front of him at eleven o'clock at night. In about twenty minutes, he would be in the next day. He didn't think about it too much. His mind was elsewhere.

Beverly poured the last, small bottom from her bottle of red wine, into her glass. She preferred not to think about how many times she has done it through the evening now, but she knows it is enough to make her head feel slightly heavy. She leaves the bottle on the empty side of the two-person bed that came with her hotel room. On nights like these, she wondered if it is worth it to have someone to fill that empty space. She wonders, if someone will ever lie by her side and love her for who she is. She doesn't wonder if there is someone out there who could love her for who she is. She knows there is someone out there, who will love her regardless of it all. She reaches for her phone on the empty side of her bed, glass of wine gently prodding against her bottom lip.

His thumb presses the green CALL button.

She brings the phone to her ear. Her brows were knit into something alike to surprise. Right when she had been thinking about him, it's his name showing on her phone screen. An incoming call from Ben Hanscom, and Beverly Marsh found herself smiling tenderly at her phone. She has not felt like this in a very long while. Maybe she has never felt like this ever before. Her teenager self seeing Bill appear from around the corner of a Derry street, perhaps was a close second. But no one could make her feel the same way Ben Hanscom makes her feel. That's one thing, Beverly has gladly taken home with her once their ways parted again in Maine about three months ago. Perhaps, she has always loved the poem most of all. Perhaps, she had been a foolish little girl. Some days, she thought about it a lot. Others, not so much. She would acknowledge both her friends are good men, and she would let her heart show her the way. And her heart told her, to answer the call.

"Hey," Beverly said curiously. Ben smiled. He felt like he was floating on a cloud as soon as he heard her voice through the call. "Hey, Bev." 

"Everything okay?" she asked next. Beverly was a little worried, while at the same time she felt so at ease to have Ben calling her so late at night. It makes her feel less alone, just like it may have him feel less on his own at the same time. She can't help but smile and she was glad he couldn't see her like this. Thinking about it made her blush. She knows how Ben would look at her now, so full of gentle admiration.

"Yeah," Ben replied easily. "What are you up to?"

Beverly almost chuckled. Oh, if only he knew. Ben knows she's staying at a hotel, but he maybe doesn't know how she had been drinking a little more than half a bottle of red wine all on her own that evening. "Oh nothing special," she said in return. "Just watching TV." Beverly glanced up to check what she had put on in the background. She came to realize she actually had no idea what was playing. She laughed softly. "Sorry, that's a lie. I don't even know what's on." She could hear Ben laugh on the other end of the call. "Same here," he told her. They both chuckled softly before the conversation turned to silence. It didn't seem to bother either of them. One way or another, they both felt less lonely despite not being in the same room together.

"You know, it's funny how you called," Beverly then said all of a sudden. She allowed herself to lean comfortably against the headboard of the bed, unaware that on the other side of the country, Ben was doing the same. She set her glass of wine down on her bedside table. "How so?" Ben asked curiously. He had called her, because his heart had screamed at him, to call Beverly.

"I was just thinking about you." Ben felt his smile grow bigger, and he blushed at himself for it. If Beverly could see him like this... He brushed the palm of his hand over his thigh to get rid of the sweaty feeling that seemed to seep into his hold. "Oh really?" he wondered out loud. "Yeah," she replied. Her voice had something secretive about it. Ben hummed sweetly. He liked this. He liked this a lot. "What were you thinking about then?" he asked. Ben could impossibly ignore the burst of courage he'd felt searing through his mind. He called it the magic of the moment.

"You," Beverly replied. She couldn't help but exhale a little, happy hum. "And how you're so kind. How you're so patient, and caring." How Ben has such a big and loving heart, and how he is one of the best things that have ever happened to her. She thought about how she had been a fool to not see it any sooner, and how happy she could feel just thinking about him. Was this love? She wondered, because Tom Rogan has never once made her feel this way. "I wondered how you were doing," she eventually added on. She had brushed any other thought from her mind for now on. "I wondered if you felt lonely, and I thought I should text you."

"Are you feeling lonely?" Ben asked after about a minute of quiet thinking. Maybe he was reading too much into it, or maybe she was indeed keeping a lot of her feelings and thoughts for her own. Ben wondered if Beverly feels the same way about him, like he feels about her. For that to be the case, would make him the happiest man alive. It would be picture perfect, if his feelings were mutual. Shared. If would be a dream, if this thing he feels was more than a one-sided desire.

"A little," Beverly confessed. "Me too," she heard on the phone moments later. They went back to sharing a moment of silence between them.

"You tired?" Ben eventually asked her. "No." , "Me neither."

"What's keeping you awake, Ben?" Beverly asked curiously. Ben should be a couple hours ahead of her if she had it right.

"I don't know." Beverly felt a hint of pity for Ben. She looked sad, but there was no one else with her to see it, other than the people on her TV screen. She wasn't paying attention to them. Her mind was with Ben. "You want to talk until we fall asleep?" Ben suggested next. He'd hesitated for a moment. "Okay."

"You still at the hotel?" Ben asked her. Beverly nodded first, then voiced her reply. "Alone?"

"Yeah. Stupid, because I've got a two-person bed," she said. She laughed a little. It made Ben smile. He pushed his thoughts back to the back of his mind, reminding himself that he wasn't that kind of guy, and could never be. "I wish you were with me, Ben." Clearly, Beverly had a different opinion about it all. She waited for Ben to say something in return. When it takes him a while, she figured she maybe had flustered him, and thought that it was adorable in some way.

"Me too," Ben eventually confessed. It was his heart speaking, and let it be a dangerous thing, for his heart was burning hotter every second he spent on his call with Beverly. She wakes something within Ben, no other girl has ever managed to achieve. As the years passed by, Ben lost weight and grew into someone completely different than who he used to be as a kid. He was what people would call handsome, though he never really saw it for himself.

Beverly knows Ben. She knows how easily he gets embarrassed by certain things. She knows how he doesn't like to be the topic of conversation, or how easily he's taken over by his emotions. She knows he's sensitive, and she likes that about him. Ben Hanscom has the biggest heart in the world, and she knows...he is willing to give it all to her. Beverly wonders sometimes, if she's worth it. Tonight, she doesn't want to think about it. Tonight, she wants to think about Ben. She wants to think about them, and how passionately she could kiss him once they see each other again. He would like that, she's sure of it. She is partly convinced that she could do just about anything to Ben, and he would fall at her feet either way. It was a powerful thought to have, to be able to guide a man to her tastes. It felt like an odd kind of freedom, though Beverly had no interest in using this idea against Ben. It was something they would need to talk about, and maybe experiment with, once the time is right. For now, she would gladly settle with what they currently have. There was no need to rush things. Ben will wait, and Beverly knows this. Beverly will wait, and Ben knows this, too.

"What are you wearing?" Beverly asked curiously. She waited, and chuckled softly when Ben seemed to fall right out of the skies. "Pyjamas, why?"

"No, I mean like, be more specific," she said. She was amused. Ben finally picked up on her. They could be together apart for the night. "I could show you? On FaceTime?"

Beverly exclaimed a laugh. "No! Ben, please! I'm not wearing any make up!" She could hear him chuckle on the phone and she can hear him think. She's still beautiful even without make-up on in Ben's eyes.

"Alright," she heard from him next. "I'm wearing grey sweatpants," Ben told her. "and a grey v-neck in the same shade. I didn't shave for three days."

Beverly bit back her comment about his beard. It was too early, even with the wine ghosting on her mind. "I'm wearing black lace panties," she told Ben. "and a black top."

"No pants?" Ben asked. He sounded genuinely curious about it, in the most innocent of ways. "Aren't you cold?" Beverly found it so amusing. She doubts Ben was even aware of how innocent he sounds to her. He truly was a man made of gold, with a spirit so pure. She'd hate to see it spoiled like she had been spoiled and soiled by men not worth any of her time. She licked her lips and smirked. If Ben could see, she was certain he would be embarrassed. "Not when I think about you," she told him. Ben blushed on the other side of the phone and barely managed to utter an "Oh..." in response to her.

"What's on your mind, Ben?" Beverly asked. He seemed speechless to her, but part of her just knows...

Ben's mind is racing at a hundred miles an hour. "You," he summarized into the phone. "Really?" Beverly asked. "What about me?" Ben didn't reply right away and Beverly smirked. Whatever was unfolding between them, she enjoyed it. Never before had she engaged in something like this before, and it was obvious that Ben hadn't done so either. She doesn't know how much Ben knows, or how much he has done before, but she assumes it's not much. She wouldn't hold it against him, however. Each to their own, and some people simply had no interest or need for these things. Maybe Ben felt that way about it all. Who knows. "Penny for your thoughts, Benjamin?" she asked. Ben could hear the teasing tone in her voice.

"Your... Your hair," he eventually said. Her panties, had been a more accurate response. "Hair like winter fire," Beverly reminded him.

"My heart burns there, too."

"Does it burn now?" Beverly asked him next. "Yes," Ben nearly sighed into his phone. She'd caught the change in his breath. "Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"What kind of underwear are you wearing?"

Ben's ears were burning in shame. He couldn't answer that question. God, he couldn't. Not in a million years... "None." He cursed his burning heart and squint his eyes shut in embarrassment. Beverly kept silent on her side of the call, but she was grinning nonetheless. She hadn't expected Ben to answer that question, let alone confess that he's not wearing any boxers or briefs, or anything at all! "Bev, I..." Ben uttered once he began feeling as if the silence between them was taking longer than before. It was just his mind playing tricks on him. "Bev, I'm sorry."

"Why?" she asked right after.

"For... For being a pervert."

"Oh, Ben." Beverly tried hard not to chuckle into her phone. "It's okay, honey. I promise."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," she reassured him. "It's good knowing what you look like right now. Makes it easier for me to imagine you here with me, in my bed." Ben was left speechless, but his heart shouted at him that he felt it too. He could think about Beverly in her black panties and her little top, by his side. "I'm not wearing a bra," he heard against his ear. Ben's imagination of her was more vivid now. He sunk away a little into the comfort of his bed. The hand he had resting on his thigh slipped an inch inwards, between his legs. He kept silent.

"Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"Before we met again, did you... Did you remember anything? From the yearbook?"

"Just your name. Your hair."

"The poem?"

"The poem, too."

"Did you ever...?" Beverly swallowed her words mid-sentence. Maybe it was the wine talking. Maybe it was her heart seeking for something else. She can't tell. "Did you ever..."

"Did I ever?" Ben asked curiously. Beverly can't seem to get past her question. He wondered what was holding her back, but he wouldn't push her either. She could change the subject anytime, and Ben would easily go with it.

"When we left Derry, I've been thinking about you," Beverly said next. Ben would go with it. "I would go to bed at night. Sometimes I fall asleep and it comes to me in my dreams. Sometimes, I need it in order to find rest," she continued. "I would think of you, or dream of you. These really nice thoughts, Ben. These warm thoughts, ideas of our bodies connecting. Imaginations of your eyes wandering over my skin, your hands touching me in places I love it best. And... And I would close my eyes, Ben. And I would touch these places, thinking it's you." As she drew to the end of her words, Beverly couldn't help but exhale a low sigh against her phone. Speaking about it, and sharing this with Ben made her hands itch. She wanted for him to touch her now, maybe more than ever before. Her free hand moved to her stomach, where her fingers teased the waistband of her panties.

Ben kept quiet on his side of the call, despite his mind and his heart not allowing him a single moment of silence. His free hand itched for something, but he stubbornly refused to give it to himself.

"Ben?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ben uttered. "Yeah," he added on. Maybe he didn't sound too convincing the first time.

"What's on your mind?"

"You."

"Just me?"

"Just you."

"I'm thinking about you, too, Ben," Beverly said. "I'm thinking about your hands." Ben kept quiet. He felt like there was something more to follow. "I'm thinking about how you would let them wander over my skin, one night. How you would start at my cheek as you kiss me," Beverly shared with him. She pulled her hand from her stomach and moved it up to her throat. "You would move to my throat, gently wrap your fingers around it as you catch my breath in a kiss." She moved her hand to every place she thinks of Ben touching. "Your large palm, do you ever think about it, Ben?" She felt herself, underneath her black tank top.

"The softness of your breasts," Ben blurted out. It was his aching, burning heart screaming out loud. Of course he's thought about her before, in such a way. He just wasn't proud of it. "The curve."

"Yeah," Beverly nearly moaned into her phone as she massaged her breast with her touch. "Ah... It'd feel so good, Ben..."

Ben squint his eyes shut when he felt the desire creep all the way down his spine, into his lap. She'd ignited a fire within him, a tender little flame at first, but it spread so far. Ben brushed his hand down his thigh once again. He couldn't give in. He couldn't tell why exactly, but it caused a conflict within him. He wants it, but he also doesn't. He's better than this, he tried to tell himself. He's better than what, exactly?

"Ben?"

"Yea... Yeah?"

"Talk to me, Ben."

"Yeah."

"What's on your mind?"

"Y-You."

"What about me?"

"Your..."

"My...?"

"Bev..."

"Yes, Ben?"

"Are you...?" Ben couldn't get it past his lips. The sheer conflict deep within him, causes his mind to jump from one thought onto another quicker than he could possibly keep track of. Two contrasting sides were shouting things at him at the same time, and he couldn't tell which one he should listen to in the end. If it were Beverly's call, she would perhaps choose the bold one. The one telling Ben to give in to his hunger.

"Hmm... Maybe. Are you?"

"I... I can't." Ben sounded rather insecure on the phone, but it didn't change how Beverly felt about him. Her hand still laid on her naked chest underneath her top. "Why not, honey? Do it for me."

"It... It doesn't feel right," Ben whispered softly against his phone. Part of him dearly wished Beverly hadn't even heard it, but alas... "Why not?"

Ben wanted to squirm, but he swallowed thickly and cleared his throat instead. "I respect you too much."

"Oh, Ben," Beverly mused sweetly. "There's nothing wrong with exploring yourself, honey." She couldn't help but smile tenderly. "Hey, Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"What if I ask you?" she asked curiously. "Would you do it for me? With me?"

"Are you okay with it?"

"Yeah... I'd love that, actually." Beverly's voice was sweet. Caring. "Please?" Ben nodded. She couldn't see, of course.

"Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"What's on your mind?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yeah... Your hair." Ben tried. Beverly kept silent. She would wait for him. She would give him all the time he needs, and she would glady try and help him through this if he wanted it. "And your eyes, green like forests. Your red lips, how tender you taste against my own," Ben hesitantly went on. "The constellation in your freckles." Beverly closed her eyes and listened to Ben's voice on the phone. Even altered through the device, he still had the power to have her feeling some kind of way about the way he puts his thoughts into words. Ben Hanscom has a voice made of honey. Beverly traced her hand from her nipple, to her belly when Ben continued sharing his train of thoughts with her. It was a whirlwind inside his own mind, but it came out like a gentle flow. "I think about your voice, and your small and delicate hands. I wonder, what they feel like, skin against skin." Beverly dipped her fingertips underneath the waistband of her panties as Ben gave in to his own desires. He'd slipped his hand between his legs, and cupped his groin through his sweats. He felt himself grow and pulse against the palm of his hand with each passing thought about Beverly Marsh. He's been through this before, about a dozen times before at least. But never before had he given into it. He has always ignored it, discarded it, or punished himself with an ice cold shower. But now, she made him feel like he was rewarding himself.

"I want to feel you, Ben," Beverly said when he fell silent. "I want to touch you in those places you like best. I want to help you find those places," she continued. Her fingertips teased her fold. She sighed against her phone. Ben's swell throbbed in his hold and he sighed, away from his phone. "I want to touch you, Ben," Beverly went on. "My slender touch, on your warm skin. I want to make you feel real good, send you into a whole new world. I want to taste what you're made of." Beverly pressed her fingers a little further and drew a moan from her own lips. It sent Ben into a different space, he tilted his head back.

"Ben?"

"Yeah..."

"How does it feel?"

"Good." Ben arched his back a little when he could feel his length through his sweats. He's never been through the sensation so consciously before. It felt intense, but it felt good. Beverly's small moans on the other side of the call made him feel better about himself. It felt right, when Beverly was there to help him through it. "Talk to me, Ben. How does it feel?"

"Like... Like..." Ben couldn't say it. He knows how it feels, but he lacks the words. To his knowledge, there was no word known to mankind to describe how he felt right now, in this very moment.

"Ben?"

"Yeah?"

Beverly said nothing more. She had dipped her fingers inside herself as she had done several times before, thinking about Ben. Always thinking about Ben. Instead, she continued to pleasure herself, playing her own body as she knows herself best. She knew the right places and the good spots and thinking about a time when Ben will know them too, was already enough to get her going. She arched her back and exhaled a pleasured moan into her phone. Ben's eyes fluttered shut. He struggled to admit it sounded great. His erection was there to tell him, it's all good. His length rested in the palm of his hand. He had been experimenting with himself, slowly, as Beverly touched herself in her hotel bed. His fingers had sunk lower to his balls and kneaded them gently. It drew a moan from Ben's lips, his cheeks flushed cherry red at once. Beverly grinned widly when Ben moaned in her ear. God, he made her feel real good even while thousands of miles away.

"Ben..." Beverly scissored her fingers inside her hot core. Ben didn't respond to her call. He had moved his hand to the base of his length, and curiously stroked himself through his grey sweats. It felt new and it felt strange, but it was a good kind of strange. He worked his way around himself slowly, and carefully, as if he were made of the same delicate porcelain he would think of when he thinks of Beverly's skin. Ben exhaled another moan into his phone, this time it was longer and louder, and far more intense. Beverly needed not to be there with him, to know where he was headed. It had something admirable about it, to listen to Ben work his way up to his climax. He wasn't even aware of it. 

Beverly rolled onto her side with her hand squeezed between her thighs when she heard Ben's breath grow heavier on the phone. The frequency of his sighs and his moans had picked up significantly and it sent her into a new state of pleasure as well. She could feel her walls throb agains the base of her fingers, as Ben felt his cock twitch in his hold. His muscles tensed for a split second, hardly longer than the blink of an eye. Their legs trembled simultaneously and Beverly's pleasured cries went lost in Ben's calls as he toppled over the edge, into a sea of overwhelming, extraordinary pleasure. His head fell back, and his phone dropped from his ear. In his lap, a large, warm stain was settling into his sweats. Beverly's hand dipped into her own wetness. Her rock-hard nipples brushed against her top and it sent her mind into a hundred sparks of divine delight. Her phone fell from her ear, and she laid sprawled across the mattress of her hotel bed as her body floated through a sea of pleasure a while longer. On the other side of the call, Ben laid on his bed the same way, though he was swift to curl up on his side once he realized that the sting in his eyes had brought tears to his cheeks. He couldn't tell, where these tears came from or why they were there. Knowing they were there, only sent more flooding down Ben's cheeks.

"Ben?" The call of his voice was dim. Ben still held his phone in his hand and glanced up. The screen was a blur. His vision was hindred by tears. He later on might just come to learn that they are tears of pleasure. Ben brought the phone back to his ear. "Yeah?"

"I love you, so much."

"I love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on Twitter: [@bnvrly](https://twitter.com/bnvrly) !


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